


Search for Ceruleana

by AdaMarina



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), PKNA - Paperinik New Adventures
Genre: And Donald Duck/Uno (PKNA) is hinted at for the future, Past Donald Duck/OC is mentioned, The pairings aren't focused on, Time Travel Shenanigans, Uno is an Android AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:25:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdaMarina/pseuds/AdaMarina
Summary: "...the Ceruleana is a ship of legend, said to have been captained by the mysterious Phantom... The Phantom Captain sailed across the world, defeating the shades from Erebus- a dark evil that settled across the world a thousand years ago- and left behind nothing but tales in their wake.”“The heart o’ the story takes place in a country that no longer exists- an’ has been recorded in a language that no longer exists.""...not much is known about the story beyond this. The last sighting of the Ceruleana was on the Shining Sea...”"The Karikana Desert."Some stories are better left forgotten, but Donald has his reasons to dig up an old skeleton. Meanwhile, Scrooge wants to once and for all solve the one mystery he and Della never could...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> What's that? I should update that story that's been sitting here unupdated for like a year?
> 
> How about I give you this instead.
> 
> This is a story I've been quietly working on for a while. I don't want it to be too long, but who knows what will happen. I had debated on how to tell the story, whether it would flash between the past and the present or if the past would be explained all at once, but I decided the flashing between the past and the present would be best.
> 
> And no. The OC introduced in the prologue, while one of the major 2 OCs, is not the one Donald had something with.

_ It was hot, incredibly so. Hotter than it should have been. The duck and the tigress stared out at the expanse of sand, a quiet air settled around them. _

_ With the suffocating darkness gone, all that was left of the once-shining sea was a desert that seemed to stretch on forever. And they were stuck in the middle. _

_ There was no way they’d make it.  _

_ The two survivors retreated inside the ship, hoping the half-submerged interior would be cooler. The duck held a dark red-painted box to his chest and the tigress clutched a small black diamond in her fist. _

_ “Captain,” the tigress spoke up, turning to the duck with an unsteady smirk on her face. It was a stark contrast to her sharp eyes and confident stance. “You need to go home.” _

_ “You were supposed to come with me,” the captain said quietly, hands tightening on the box. “Both of you. I- I can’t-” _

_ “You have people waiting for you at home,” she cut him off, holding the diamond out to him. “You have to go. It’s... it’s already been written.” _

_ “So many people died.” _

_ “To save so many others.” Her gaze softened, her smirk shifting into a small smile. “We all knew what this could cost us, Captain. It was a risk we were willing to take, to ensure  _ your _ life. _

_ “Go, so they did not die in vain.” _

_ He hesitated, looking at the gem, and then he looked back at her. “Won’t you come?” _

_ “It only restores time,” she told him, shaking her head. “You told me yourself. I can’t come. This... this is my time. But it is not yours. Take the box and go home. Protect it. Never let this happen again.” _

_ The captain stared at her, somewhat stricken, as she just smiled again. He could see the tears burning her eyes- she was holding them back, she was a tough girl, but he knew she was scared. _

_ “If I leave you’ll die.” _

_ “If you stay we both will.” _

_ There was a moment of silence as the two just looked at each other. Finally the tigress allowed the smile to slip away. _

_ “It’s kind of funny, isn’t it?” she said, though it certainly was not funny. “The first time I met you, you knew I was going to die. And the first time you met me, I knew you were going to live.” _

_ “Mary-” _

_ “Goodbye, Donald.” _

_ He never had a chance to respond as she pressed the gem into his palm, and with a sickening weightlessness he was thrown forward- away from there, back to where he belonged, in a temple in the ancient desert, an expansive wasteland of nothingness outside the tower's window- and now he finally knew why it was so, standing in front of a shattered mirror. _

_ His feathers were in disarray, tears burned their way down his cheeks. He wore a long coat and looking at himself in the shattered remains, he could see that time had passed all too well- a whole year older, and it showed. _

_ At the same time, though, he saw his ship- his beloved Ceruleana- imposed over his reflection in fast forward, being buried by the desert sands and wind over time.  _

_ In his hands he clutched the box and the little black diamond. _

_ He fell to his knees and cried, clutching the box ever closer. _


	2. Journey: Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short this chapter is, it was written on me phone
> 
> Also Uno shows up in this chapter yayy

The rain pouring outside echoed around the mansion. Inside the family all lounged, bored, in one of the entertainment rooms, the TV airing a rerun of last week’s Ottoman Empire.

Having explored every inch of the mansion already the four ducklings laid about, Huey with a book in hand and Louie on the couch, leaning against his Uncle Gladstone. Dewey and Webby were looking at a large book of some kind and whispering to one another. Launchpad was off to the side, headphones on and staring down at his phone, a grin on his face as he undoubtedly watched yet another episode of Darkwing Duck, and Mrs. Beakley was somewhere in the manor, making a pot of tea.

Meanwhile, Donald squinted down at a chessboard, trying to determine what move he could make was safe. Across the board Uno watched him with a small smirk, knowing already that no matter what Donald did he had the game in the bag.

Besides the pattering of the rain, the whispering of children and the twin chickens on the television, all was quiet in the mansion. Overwhelmingly so.

Right up until Scrooge kicked the door open. “Pack yer bags, we’re goin’ on an adventure!”

The children immediately leapt up with a collective cheer, and Launchpad was quick to join even as he had no idea what was going on, but Donald, Uno and Gladstone gave no reaction.

“Count me out,” Donald said, choosing to move a knight between his king and Uno’s queen. Too late he realized he had just opened the way for Uno’s bishop.

“Need I even move?” Uno asked, giving Scrooge absolutely none of his attention, and Donald scowled back. Before he could say anything, though, Scrooge’s cane slammed down on the board, scattering the pieces. Both ducks jumped back before turning a glare on the old miser, but Scrooge was unperturbed.

“Listen, nephew,” Scrooge demanded, one hand on his hip as both ducks looked on in irritation. “It might interest ye this time!” Donald rolled his eyes and reached out to start picking up the pieces, putting them back into place. “We’re goin’ tae find the _Ceruleana.”_

Donald’s hand stilled. His and Uno’s eyes met over the chessboard.

“The _Ceruleana?”_ Louie asked, confused.

“According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook,” Huey started, whipping out said guidebook, “the _Ceruleana_ is a ship of legend, said to have been captained by the mysterious Phantom who appeared from nowhere one day. Supposedly the Phantom Captain sailed across the world, defeating the shades from Erebus- a dark evil that settled across the world a thousand years ago- and left behind nothing but tales in their wake.”

“There’s been a lot of translation issues,” Scrooge admitted, wandering to the window to look out into the rain. “The heart o’ the story takes place in a country that no longer exists- an’ has been recorded in a language that no longer exists,” he added. “Your... your mum, uncle and I spent a few years researching the story, when they were younger, until your uncle lost interest in it.”

“The Guidebook says not much is known about the story beyond this. The last sighting of the _Ceruleana_ was on the... Shining Sea?”

“The Karikana Desert,” Scrooge rattled off, turning around to face them. “Roughly, Karikana means light. In English we have called it the Shining Sea in legend, but the Karikana Desert in modern times. Not sure why,” he snorted. “Supposedly the last time any o’ the crew o’ the _Ceruleana_ were seen was when they disappeared intae the darkness. The only thing known for sure is they defeated Erebus, as the darkness spreading across the world, and its shades, disappeared. It took the Shining Sea with it, leaving behind a desert that never recovered.

“The ship was never found, and the crew- and its mysterious captain- all presumed dead.”

“What makes you think we can find the _Ceruleana?”_ Webby asked curiously, looking up at Scrooge in awe.

“Because I have finally deciphered the direction the tales say the _Ceruleana_ disappeared in.”

“The ship will long since have been buried,” Uno finally spoke up while Donald dropped his gaze back to the board, frowning in thought. “You could walk right over it and you would never know.”

“Gyro’s invented something that will fix that. I just need tae find the site and we’ll call in an excavation.”

“Ever thought of letting the dead rest, Scrooge?” Donald asked, a somewhat-bitter bite in his voice. It gave the others pause. “You’ve unearthed tombs and cities of the dead, and now you want to unearth a crew that died to ensure our lives?”

“I want answers,” Scrooge replied, scowling at Donald. “And once upon a time so did ye.”

“Some questions aren’t meant to be answered.”

“It's a chance tae finally know their story, nephew, an’ ye-”

“Some stories aren't meant to be told,” Donald argued, eyes narrowing at his uncle. “Let the dead rest!”

“They'll rest knowing their story won't be forgotten!”

“Well,” Gladstone cut in before Donald could argue any further, “I’m extremely curious, Uncle. Can I come?”

“Sure, sure,” Scrooge agreed distractedly. Donald frowned. “The more the merrier.”

Donald replaced the chess pieces and looked at his friend on the other side. Uno shrugged helplessly. After a few seconds, Donald sighed.

“Okay,” he decided, leaning back in his seat. He crossed his arms and scowled. “I’ll come.”

“Wait, what?” Dewey seemed surprised, as did the other children.

“If you’re gonna insist on disturbing the dead and possibly releasing some ancient evil,” he groused, “I may as well be there. To protect the kids,” he added, as if that wasn’t immediately understood.

“O’course,” Scrooge chuckled, twirling his cane in his hand. He was satisfied in his apparent victory. “And what about ye, Uno, lad?”

Uno twitched slightly, the irritation showing through despite his best efforts. “I go where Donald goes.”

“That’s what I thought ye’d say. Now go pack your bags! We set off in the mornin’!”


	3. History: In the Making

_The feeling of falling through the broken mirror was jarring, Scrooge and Della’s voices cut off as he felt himself crashing into an ocean._

_The water was cold, and he quickly shoved himself to the surface, sputtering and shivering in the salty sea. He blinked the stinging from his eyes and stared across an expanse of blue, blue as far as the eye could see, and for just a moment thought how strange it was- hadn’t he just been in a desert?_

_Then he heard the voices. Pushing himself around he found himself looking up up up at a ship, so much larger than life, and standing at the rail were people, utterly indistinguishable against a sunny blue sky. Fear spiked through his heart as he took in the rigging, the black-painted wood, the canons barely visible through the railing of the ship- a ship that was only ever seen in history books and in fantasies, a ship that he had only ever looked upon during late nights scouring through books on legends and lost ancient history with his sister and uncle._

_Donald stared at that ship, hardly even registering someone jumping overboard with a rope, as a horrible realization overcame him. The Karikana Desert had once been a sea..._

_Almost one thousand years ago._

_And they had just been in Father Time’s tower._

_Whatever fact he had just uncovered was pushed aside as he finally registered the person reaching out and grabbing him, pulling him towards the famous ship of legend. He didn’t fight as a rope was shoved into his hands, the words being shouted around him unintelligible. Unintelligible, yet distantly recognizable._

Karikan, _his mind supplied as his gaze shifted leftwards, finding that where the legendary golden text proclaiming_ CERULEANA _was alleged to be was blank._

_A nameless ship in the middle of the Karikana Sea._

_He was hauled over the rail and he hit the deck, sea water spilling around him. His dark sailor suit matched the ship, but his white feathers stood out much too brightly- and he hoped, for his own sake, that the captain of the_ Ceruleana _was as merciful as the stories all said._

_Boots, heavy against the wood, thudded their way over to him, but Donald kept his eyes stubbornly downwards. The crew around him was whispering, but he couldn’t understand any of it. Karikan, the language spoken in the region surrounding the Karikana Sea- the ancestor to the modern Karinz, of the former Karikana region- was a long dead, long lost language that Della and Scrooge had never managed to figure out, its relation to Karinz so whittled away by western influence that not even the descendants of Karikana knew it anymore._

_A language, a culture, a people Donald knew nothing about._

_“Ta tikaten.”_

_The voice was low, rough, almost like a growl- though not quite. Yet it had a feminine ring to it, even as its speaker bit out the command- whatever the command was._

_Donald carefully looked up, meeting the bright green eyes of a tigress. Tall and proud, wearing a hat upon her head- was this the famous Captain of legend, Donald wondered? But it couldn’t be- the hero was said to have feathers, and feathers that were as white as snow- a duck, Scrooge had always thought, yet no one called them a duck. The tigress in front of him- she was orange, with black stripes and the reddest hair Donald had seen anyone but his own mother have. There was no way the tales could have been so wildly wrong._

_She must have been his companion- but then why was she dressed as pirate captains dressed in the west more than three hundred years from now? Donald couldn’t understand what he was seeing._

_She didn’t make any sense._

_Equally so, he knew, he did not either._

_As Donald observed her, and she him, the cold steel slid away from the tigress’ eyes. Recognition seemed to settle there, though Donald had no idea why, and the tigress resheathed her sword._

_“Donald?”_

_He sat up with a jerk, eyes widening as she said his name. So simple, one simple word, yet it meant so much. How did she know his name?_

_“How do you-” he started to ask, but cut himself off, remembering that she would not be able to understand him. However, a grin broke out on her face at his voice._

_“Se kaya kotana!” she called to the rest of the crew, and cheers rose up in the air. Donald looked around, not understanding. Then the tigress knelt down in front of him, resting an arm across her leg, as she looked at him up close._

_When she spoke, it wasn’t in that unrecognizable language. Instead, it was in one he was much more familiar with- a precursor to the one he spoke._

_Old English._

_“It’s about time you arrived, Donald,” she said to him, a strange light in her eye. “I was starting to worry you had lied to me.”_

_“Who... are you?” Donald asked slowly in the ancient language, his voice as garbled as ever. The tigress didn’t seem perturbed, however._

_“Kataca’a,” she answered simply, but then added, “but please, call me Mary.”_

_She held a hand out to him, and with only some hesitance he accepted it, allowing Mary to pull him to his feet._

_“Have we met before?” Donald asked her, gaze sweeping around the crew. A young crow stood among cats and dogs, and at least one bear. There were no other birds on the entire ship. “How do you know my name?”_

_Mary studied him for a moment before shaking her head. “It matters not. Come, let’s get you in proper clothes and acquainted with the crew.” She smiled, setting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve waited many years for you to come to us, Captain.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This half of the story is heavy in OCs, but only Mary and the crow mentioned will be important.  
> Also I'm a jerk and you won't find out how Mary knows about Donald until the sequel, unless you're in my Discord and know how this story plays out.


	4. Journey: Writings

“What  _ is _ this thing anyway?” Dewey asked, turning the box around in his hands. His brothers and Webby peered over his shoulder at the deep red box they’d found while rifling through their uncle’s closet.

The rain still poured outside, offering no real light through the window in their uncle’s old room. It was only ever used once, the first night they were there, and on rainy nights when the houseboat was too damaged to sleep in and it was too cold for their uncle to just lounge in the pool, but the sailor had taken to stashing his belongings in the old room in the mansion in order to avoid losing everything the  _ next _ time the houseboat decided to spontaneously combust.

“It looks like a jewelry box,” Webby commented, taking the box from Dewey and running her fingers over the smooth edging. “Very well crafted. Looks like there’s sigils on it, so protected, too.”

“Yeah, okay, but what’s inside it?” Louie asked impatiently, grabbing the box and trying to pry it open. It didn’t budge. “Ugh,  _ and _ it’s locked. Dewey, is there a key in there?”

“Can we just get back to the matter at hand,” Huey interrupted, turning his attention back to the plastic bins of Donald's belongings. “We need to hurry before Uncle Donald, Uncle Scrooge and Uno get back from the store.”

The duckling continued rooting through their uncle’s clothes and old pictures, only pausing when he found what he was looking for.

“A-ha! I knew he’d still have it.”

“Have what?” Dewey asked distractedly, trying to help Louie pry the box open as well.

Huey glared at them and held the book up. “Uncle Donald’s research, duh! The  _ Ceruleana  _ is a ship, right?” As his brothers nodded, clearly not paying attention, Huey rolled his eyes and continued, “Uncle Donald was always fascinated with ships. We’ve found his research on so many others-  _ The Black Opal, The Crimson Swan, Angel’s Mercy, Queen Ibis’ Avenger _ \- so he definitely would have a journal of research on the  _ Ceruleana. _

“I don’t know about you three but Uncle Donald got way too defensive about it,” Huey huffed, opening the journal up as Webby handed Louie a hairpin to try and pick the jewelry box’s lock.

The first page was simply an illustration- actually, two. There were two variations of a very similar ship with Donald’s- and what he now recognized as Della’s- scrawled notes alongside.

“Right off the bat we see two different alleged designs for the ships,” he observed aloud, scanning over the notes. “They’re pretty similar but one is bigger than the other and has two extra sails, and also a merduck design on the front. Uncle Donald suspects the merduck was a western addition, as merfolk in that region were usually depicted as lionesses...

“Apparently the ship was painted black like charcoal, with golden text reading  _ Ceruleana _ in the Roman alphabet, which wasn’t used in that region,” Huey read out, pleased to notice Webby abandon the box in favour of looking over his shoulder. “The sails were pure white, though, and it flew no flags.”

He flipped the page to find only one page of notes... at least notes he could read. The rest, however... he couldn’t read a word of it. He flipped through several pages of writing- small, squeezed unevenly between the lines and in the margins, and every single bit of it completely useless to him.

It was written in symbols, in hieroglyphs he’d never seen before.

“Mom must have taken over the journal,” he mumbled, closing the journal and slipping it under his hat. He wasn’t sure why he did- it was useless, now that he knew it was written in another language for the most part, but something in him told him to take it. “Now come on, let’s-”

“Got it!” Dewey cried triumphantly as the box finally unsealed, popping open as its hinges snapped under the pressure he and Louie had applied. “Whoops...”

“Dangit, guys!” Huey cried, quickly taking the box from them. “Uncle Donald might not notice a journal he never looks at being gone, but he’s gonna notice  _ this!” _

“I didn’t mean to break it!” Dewey defended angrily, balling his hands into fists. “I didn’t know it was gonna break!”

“Stop fighting!” Louie cut in, snatching the box back from Huey. “Look, if he notices it’s broken, he’ll probably just assume it got damaged when the houseboat exploded, or when it caught fire, or when we took it to the Bin, or whatever.”

He opened the top up, curious to see what was inside it, and his expression fell. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Dewey asked, peering into the box. “What?!”

“Oh that’s not cool,” Webby pouted, crossing her arms as she too looked inside. Curiosity got the better of Huey.

“What’s inside?”

_ “Nothing!” _ the other three chorused, showing him the inside of the box. It was painted deep red- deeper than the polished cherry outside, and inside the box a broken piece of clay rolled about.

“Well that  _ is _ lame,” Huey almost laughed, relaxing slightly. Surely Donald wouldn’t get mad over a box he never used anyway. 

“Kids, what are you doing in here?”

The four children jumped and looked over at Gladstone. “Um... packing... for... Uncle Donald...?”

Gladstone raised a brow as the four of them scrambled to bury the box back in Donald’s closet. “Right. Well, D-Squared just pulled up in the driveway so you might wanna skedaddle. Besides,” he pointed towards the bed and the bags lying on top of it, “both he and Uno already packed.”

The kids pouted, a little upset that they couldn’t ruse him, but they ran out of the bedroom back to their own in order to quickly get their things in order.

And so they wouldn’t be caught.

Gladstone glanced at Donald’s closet before shrugging and heading back downstairs. It wasn’t his problem.


	5. History: The Captain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its short and took so long. Also updating this on mobile so forgive any mistakes please!

_“I don't know a lot about this region,” Donald said as he looked into the mirror, “but I'm pretty sure this isn't Karikan style.”_

_“It's not,” Mary chuckled, watching him from where she leaned against the wall. “It's from further west, inspired by the pirates of England. A friend gave this getup to me.”_

_The more they conversed, the easier it was to understand, Donald found. He made a face at the deep blue coat he now wore over a loose white shirt. Boots, large and somewhat clunky and very foreign on his feet, added to the image of an awkward teen with no idea what he was doing in the mirror._

_“I feel ridiculous,” he finally settled on, and Mary laughed, pushing away from the wall and approaching him._

_“You get used to it,” she assured him, making a strange gesture he didn't understand. She lifted her hand and very slightly moved it, as if waving yet her palm faced her chest._

_Donald stared at her reflection quizzically, until finally she just said, “Look at me.”_

_He turned around, looking up at the tigress as she took the hat off of her head. She held the hat out to him, and Donald's brow furrowed in confusion._

_“I knew you'd come one day,” Mary told him. “I've been waiting to give this to you.”_

_“I'm... Why? How?”_

_Mary grinned. “That's for you to figure out now isn't it, Captain?”_

_Slowly Donald understood. He looked around the cabin- dark red, a four-poster bed, a gold and violet drape on the wall, a portrait of Mary..._

_Mary was the captain of a nameless ship that would one day be called_ Ceruleana.

_The Phantom Captain was said to have appeared from nowhere._

_Donald swallowed._

_“What's this ship called?” He finally asked._

_“It has no name,” she said. “Yet. We waited for you.”_

_He looked at the hat, heart thrumming in his chest. This couldn’t be happening. Yet it all made sense, he knew- stupidly clear sense._

_Slowly, Donald took the hat from Mary._ I’m only seventeen, _his mind screamed, but didn’t the stories all say the captain was a young bird- a duck, as his uncle had always believed, despite ducks not being native to the region? Hadn’t the young captain come from nowhere one day, giving the ship a name from an alphabet not used in Karikana, using pronunciation principles not even found in that_ century, _let alone that part of the world?_

_Didn’t that young captain have an almost ridiculously intimate knowledge of ships?_

_... Didn’t that captain probably die after defeating some great evil?_

_He looked up at Mary, who was no longer smiling at him. She must have picked up on his nerves, or maybe he just had some look about him._

_There was one question he could ask, he knew. One question, and it would prove or disprove everything._

_“Mary,” he started quietly, “can you tell me about... about the shadow?”_

_If he was wrong, she would be confused._ The Shadow _was what all the writings on the topic called the thing- the great darkness- and if he wasn’t the captain, and this wasn’t the_ Ceruleana _after all, then she would be confused._ What shadow? _she would ask, because such a name would not be familiar to her._

_But her gaze softened and shifted towards the window over her desk._

_“Its name is Erebus,” she answered. “A dark cloud forming over and through the center of the sea. It’s already consumed Albat, a small island village.”_

_Donald’s heart beat painfully and his gut coiled tightly, because now he knew it was true. But why him? Why not Scrooge, or Della?_

_Oh, right. Because_ he _broke the mirror._

_But then why not Mary? She was already the captain, and she was clearly more than capable of leading the crew. Why, then, was she handing the reins over to him? He was just a kid- he didn’t know what he was doing._

We waited for you, _Mary’s words echoed in his head, and he swallowed again. Mary had known he was coming. How, he didn’t know, but she knew him._

_And for some reason, she seemed to know that this was how history was supposed to play out._

_Mary looked back at him, as if expecting him to say something._

_Finally, Donald swallowed past the knot in his throat. History was already written. He couldn’t change it. He could only hope he would see Della and Scrooge, and Gladstone and Fethry, and Grandma, and all of them again one day._

_"_ Ceruleana _,” he finally croaked out, and Mary blinked at him. “The_ Ceruleana. _It’s the name of the ship we’re on. The one I learned about from legends. Her name is_ Ceruleana.”

 _Mary smiled. “Well then, welcome to the_ Ceruleana, _C_ _aptain.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donald knows his story is already history. He's helpless but to go along with it.
> 
> But god is he scared. He's just a kid, after all.


End file.
